Page 67 of The War of Four Winters

"Perhaps that's precisely why they should be," I replied. "They bridge worlds that have been separate too long. They represent the future I'm fighting for. The future Miya and our child never had the chance to see."

Klaus's expression softened at the mention of Miya, an unexpected reaction. "I opposed you when I first learned of your relationship with that slave woman. I thought it was political suicide." He paused, weighing his words. "But when Tarathiel had her executed... That was the moment many began to question his judgment. His cruelty."

I stared at him, caught off guard by this revelation.

"One does not kill a pregnant woman, human or otherwise, and maintain moral authority," Klaus continued. "Not in the eyes of those with conscience."

He was silent for a long moment. Then he sighed, a heavy sound that seemed to carry the weight of centuries. "Your father plans quite a spectacle for your trial. Public humiliation. Forced confession. Eventually, execution by Commander Varyk's hand."

I had expected as much, but hearing it confirmed still sent a chill through me. "You didn't come here just to deliver that news."

"No." Klaus approached the bench where I sat, lowering his voice as though we were alone. "Taelyn's latest message contained something unusual. A request delivered through unusual channels. Your brother Katyr has united the Runecleaver clan following Vinolia's sudden... departure. He marches for D’thallanar with the combined force of the Runecleaver and Northfire clans. I never thought I would see the day when they stood united. Yet here we are.”

Hope flared in my chest before caution tamped it down. "Tarathiel believes Katyr comes to barter for my life, to surrender in exchange for mercy."

Klaus' expression revealed nothing. "Perhaps. Or perhaps your father sees only what he expects to see: a son willing to sacrifice others for power." His voice dropped further. "As he would do himself."

"Why tell me this?"

"Because things change quickly in power's highest circles." Klaus straightened. "Vinolia's death creates opportunity. The Runecleavers united under Katyr rather than divided among pretenders. The sudden allegiance of the Duskfells through their last remaining son. The Spine tribes' growing support for your vision." He paused. "And rumors that the Shikami have finally chosen sides in this civil war."

My breath caught. The Shikami's neutrality was legendary, their refusal to intervene in matters of elven succession an absolute principle. "That's not possible."

"Many impossible things have happened since you raised your banner against your father." Klaus moved toward the door, clearly preparing to leave. "History turns on such moments, Ruith Starfall. On choices made when all seems lost."

He knocked once on the iron door, signaling the guards beyond. Before they could respond, he looked back at me. "My daughter loves you, in her way. Not as a wife loves a husband, perhaps, but as one ruler respects another. She believes in what you're building." His eyes hardened. "I believe in her judgment, if nothing else."

The lock turned in the door.

I rose hesitantly on weak legs. “Is it too forward to ask if I might look out at the Assembly chamber tomorrow and see at least one friendly face?”

He hesitated. “I think you have more friends here in the capital than you realize,” he said carefully.

The door swung open. Guards waited beyond, respectful of Klaus's rank but clearly anxious about his unauthorized visit.

"Lord Wolfheart," their captain began, "the Primarch has ordered—"

"The Primarch has ordered many things throughout our history," Klaus cut him off. "Some wiser than others." He stepped through the doorway without a backward glance. "See that the prisoner receives proper medical attention. He represents House Wolfheart's interests until proven guilty by proper Assembly vote."

The door closed behind him, locks engaging with heavy finality. I sat in the darkness once more, but something had changed. A spark had been lit where before there was only cold despair.

I pressed my hand against my side where Father's sword had cut deepest. The wound throbbed, a constant reminder of failure. Yet Klaus's visit suggested that failure might not be absolute. Katyr rallied forces. The Shikami potentially broke their neutrality. Somewhere out there, Elindir moved toward D'thallanar with unknown purpose.

And Klaus had said I might find allies in the Assembly chamber tomorrow.

For the first time since my capture, I allowed myself to consider the possibility that tomorrow might not end with my death. That the story we had begun together—all of us who dreamed of something better—might continue beyond my own final chapter.

I closed my eyes, seeing Elindir's face as clearly as if he stood before me. The copper of his hair catching firelight. The determined set of his jaw when facing impossible odds. The way his eyes softened when looking at Leif and Torsten.

"Whatever you’re planning, Elindir," I whispered into the darkness. "Be safe."

Theelvencapitalsprawledacross the valley like an enormous mandala, its concentric rings radiating outward from the Assembly Hall at its heart. Through swirling snow, D'thallanar's curved pagoda roofs and wooden towers emerged against the winter sky, their elegant silhouettes belying the power concentrated within. Fourteen perfectly circular districts nested within each other, connected by gleaming bridges that spanned frozen canals.

"It's even more beautiful than I imagined," I whispered, my breath clouding in the frigid air.

Niro's face remained impassive. "Beauty often conceals danger. D'thallanar is both the most magnificent and deadliest city in the realm."

We'd spent the last two days in final preparations, transforming me into something I was not. Simple robes of a scribe's apprentice stolen from an isolated village clothed me from neck to feet. They were plain but well-made in the muted colors of the bureaucratic class. A high collar and the hood of a weather cloak partially obscured my ears, which Niro had painstakingly altered with beeswax and sheep's wool to create the illusion of elvish points when seen from a distance. My hair, which had been darkened with a little boot polish we found at the headhunter’s camp, covered the rest.

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